


47 Seconds

by phae



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phae/pseuds/phae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton falls in love with Agent Phil Coulson in the span of 47 seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	47 Seconds

Ex-carnie, pseudo-mercenary Clint Barton falls in love with Unflappable Agent Phil Coulson in the span of 47 seconds. They are an excruciating 47 seconds, namely because the countdown to love starts when a bullet rips through his thigh at 1400 feet per second.

 

The 16 seconds following the initial incident are not particularly noteworthy, at least in Clint’s opinion, seeing as they consisted of him falling on his ass from the force of the shot followed by a painful meeting between the pavement and his skull, all of which resulted in a wheezing, drawn out groan of stunned pain.

 

At 17 seconds, Clint notices the suit looming over him, regarding him unapologetically from behind tinted aviators. He takes 5 seconds to catalogue the man casually aiming a gun at his head: he isn’t exceptionally tall or noticeably well-muscled, his features are the definition of plain, and he possesses a receding hairline that gives way to thinning mousy brown hair.

 

“You wouldn’t return our phone calls, so I thought I’d stop by personally to extend an employment offer on behalf of SHIELD,” the suit says.

 

“Excuse you?” Clint gasps, one hand pressed to the bloody splotch spreading across his jeans.

 

“Shooting you wasn’t part of the plan,” the man explains. Then, at 34 seconds, the man’s deadpan expression fades in the wake of an endearing half smile. “I played a good deal of _Duck Hunt_ when I was younger. It’s a reflex now. Bird takes off after you rustle the nest, best to take him down quick.”

 

“You _shot_ me,” Clint growls, a spike of anger surging up out of the shock.

 

“I did.” The agent relaxes his right arm then, lowering his weapon to his side as he reaches out instead with his left, his palm held out to Clint. “Welcome to SHIELD.”

 

Clint is well aware that he has a checkered history of bad decisions that will probably always creep back up on him at the most inconvenient times, and the sudden attraction he feels to a guy who just shot him will no doubt round that list out quite well. That doesn’t stop Clint’s heart from stuttering an interested beat-beat at 46 seconds when a callused hand clasps his blood-smeared fingers to pull him up.

 

In that 47th second, Clint puts together the parched-quality of his mouth, the clenching of his stomach, the stirring of _feelings_ in his groin, and the throb of agony shooting straight from his thigh to his brain; he comes to the conclusion that it must be love.


End file.
